“She is!” Her scream could have woken the dead. “If Ercole hadn't been obsessed with her mother, my mommy would have been safe, and he wouldn't have used me or given me to those men.”
Fuck, just the idea of a little girl being subjected to what we had been, it threatened to snap my control, and I would look closely into his dealings once this shit was over. Rosa coughed, but I didn't dare look at her. For one, not to anger Ciara, and I wasn't sure I could handle seeing her beaten up again without coming to the rescue.
Damian was only inches away from Ciara, but she didn't notice, as she added, “I had to suck dicks and kiss older men, while she basked in love and attention! How is this fair? It should have been her!” The truth of the matter was, it shouldn’t have been anyone. No child deserved the past she, Damian, and I shared. The anger of unfairness would always be there in the heart, but while Damian and I directed it at the people who deserved it, she directed it at Rosa.
Her next words were cut off as Damian kicked the gun from her hand and then wrapped his arms around her. He pushed the needle with sedative into the side of her neck, and in a second, she was out, swaying in his arms as he put her on the couch.
He kneeled in front of Ercole, checked his pulse, shook his head, and spoke into the small mic against his cheek. “All clear.” People barged into the building as I scooped Rosa into my arms, holding the knife in place, as we couldn't predict what would happen next. Radmir hugged a sobbing Jake close, patting him soothingly as if it would take away this nightmare. Regret was deeply etched on his face, as it should be. What the fuck was he thinking bringing his son to headquarters?
Rosa groaned, squeezing my arm tighter, digging her nails into my skin. “Dom… I don’t think I will make it,” she whispered, stopping every second to catch a breath as her eyelids drooped, almost closing, and I shook her slightly.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep,krasavica.”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips, as she murmured, “My sexy, arrogant jerk.”
Fear unlike any I’d ever known swept through me, because the scene reminded me so much of what had happened a year ago. I couldn't bear losing her one more time.
Paramedics rushed to us with a gurney, placing her on it while checking her pulse, adjusting IV drips, and shouting to take us to some surgical center. I sat beside her in the ambulance, all the while praying to God, something I’d only done when she was in danger.
I promise you, God. Save her and I will come to church every Sunday like a good Christian.
In fifteen minutes, we had reached the hospital, where they took her away to the operating room while I sat on the small, uncomfortable chair, waiting for the verdict.
One hour.
Two Hours.
Three Hours.
Slowly, the hallway filled with Damian, Connor, Melissa, Yuri, Vitya, Michael, and other Bratva members, and even Don flew in as soon as he could.
Six hours later, an exhausted Dr. Ruslan emerged from the double doors of the OR and gave us a stern but soft look. “She made it.” With an exhale of relief, my body sagged against the wall, finally allowing weakness.
Thank you, God.
Expect me at a service every Sunday.
Dominic
Resting my hands on the railing of the balcony, I took in the beautiful scenery of Moscow as lights flickered on Red Square, mesmerizing me for a second in its perfection. The apartment in the center of the city was supposed to host the grand finale for the person who caused all the suffering to my love and me. We brought all the equipment here, as it was one of Rosa’s favorite places in the city. Back then, to me it seemed like such a high honor in avenging her death right here. I had lived and breathed for this day.
And it had finally arrived. The responsible party was unconscious but tied up on the couch in the living room, while all the men around her didn't know what to do.
During the year, I imagined a lot of scenarios of how it would go, or who it might end up being. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected a woman to be the one behind it.
Let alone one who suffered at the hands of evil, as Damian and I had.
The balcony door opened, and I didn't have to turn around to know who was there.
“I can’t do this to her.” Although my fists clenched, remembering Rosa’s condition when we found her, I couldn't make myself torture and kill the girl who once had to pleasure someone else against her will.
“Me neither.” Damian bumped my shoulder, as he took the same position. “Those tapes… the things he did to her. He was supposed to protect her.” He hit the rail harshly. “He was her guardian!” His fury was tangible, and it matched my own. Killing this fucker once was never enough. He deserved it again and again and again.
“What do we do with her?” She needed intensive therapy. God only knew if it would help her. She had psychopathic tendencies, and I wasn't sure she could function normally, even though she had all those medals and romances. Almost like split personality disorder along with trauma that had allowed her to pretend that this part of her life didn't exist.
Damian patted my back. “Let’s go. Everyone is waiting.” Nodding, we joined the rest in the living room. Connor was sipping whiskey with a dumbstruck expression. Vitya, Yuri, and Michael appeared to be in deep thought, while Luke and Don were just plain sad, smoking cigars and casting pitying looks at the girl. How fucked this situation had to be for Don to feel sorry for the girl who harmed his kid.
The ring of the doorbell surprised us all, and everyone grabbed their guns while Damian opened it, and Vito dashed inside as if he owned the place. The muscles in his neck strained and his jaw ticked as a furious scowl permanently settled on his face. “Where is she?” He frantically scanned the room, and the minute he noticed Ciara, he was by her side in two short steps and kneeled in front of her. His knuckles gently caressed her face. “Cara mia,” he whispered, removing his jacket and covering her body with it.
